The Interpretation of Dreams
by DDR Freak
Summary: After a battle with one of Dedede's monsters, Sir Meta Knight is acting a little strangely-- and eventually is trapped inside his own mind, in his dreams, memories... and fears.
1. By the Pricking of My Thumbs

_The Interpretation of Dreams_

Chapter One – By the Pricking of My Thumbs

Finding a monster in King Dedede's castle was nothing unexpected nowadays. The king was nearly constantly ordering up something new to come after Kirby or to create general havoc; his hobby was an expensive and irritating one. And the matter of his bill… it was something that no one even wanted to think about, much less try to calculate. Probably the only ones who had a running tab on Dedede was Holy Nightmare itself, and heavens knew that the king would never pay back his debts if he could possibly get away with it. Even if he _couldn't _possibly get away with it, he still would try.

At this time of night, however, the entire castle was silent. Even Dedede refused to call up monsters at this late hour; he was a lazy thing and often indulged in a bit of sloth, sleeping late into the day. He would have never been caught doing anything at this time of night but snoring and perhaps dreaming of hammering certain pink puffballs into the ground.

For some, though, the night was sleepless. It was not an unusual occurrence, but somewhat vexatious nonetheless; a lack of sleep was not conducive to vigilance. But there were times that rest would simply not come, and there was little use in lying in bed, staring up at a dark and empty ceiling. The night air was at least refreshing, and, for a while, Meta Knight could stand upon the ramparts, his cloak wrapped tightly around his body, and secretly gaze upward at the heavens. Stargazing was something that he did not often have time to do, and perhaps it might have been an odd pastime for him to engage in—after all, he had seen more of the stars than could ever have been visible in this inky-black sky. For some reason, though, the pinpricks that glimmered like diamond dust were comforting, and for a long time he would stare at them, and remember those who he was not staring at them with.

Meta Knight was old, far older than anyone really believed him to be, and he had seen skies like this shift and change over the passing of many, many years. He had seen stars die, had even at one point seen a supernova from as close as a star warrior could safely travel; it had been spectacular, the descent of that sullenly glowing red sun into a brilliant blast of vivid white and then a corona of every color, growing outward in fantastic shapes taken straight from a dreamscape. That star-death had been magnificent and terrible at the same time, but its beauty was undeniable and had etched itself immutably into the knight's mind. It was not something that he would ever forget nor would he have ever wished to. It had been like a symphony with a cadence vaster and more complex than the universe.

The sights from this planet were not as impressive as the view from space, as the atmosphere created unfortunate distortions of the light… and there were all sorts of physics that made the sights less stunning, but, even so, there was enjoyment in looking up at the heavens. This night there was a meteor shower, only visible at these dismally late hours, and the skies were streaked with silver trails. The air was chill, as well, but with his cloak for protection Meta Knight felt comfortable enough on the barren rampart. He watched it for more hours than he cared to count, until the brilliant threads that slashed the sky had faded entirely away. The horizon had begun to lighten, signaling the coming of dawn, just barely beginning to glow faintly in pastel colors.

With a gentle sigh, Meta Knight stepped down from the parapet upon which he had kept his silent vigil, and began to walk the chill, empty halls of Dedede's castle. Silence still reigned, though that suited him fine—it was more peaceful here when everyone was asleep and unable to cause mischief. His footfalls, soft as they were, echoed off of the stone walls; the sound followed him along his path. Eventually his footsteps led him far down into the castle, and, with his dark cloak still wrapped around his form, he entered into the kitchen door that had come up on his left.

Inside, the hearth was lit with a roaring fire, making the area seem stiflingly hot; Meta Knight released the material of his cloak from his grip, allowing it to fall gently into place behind him. It was too warm here for its protection, even though he would not be staying very long. There would be Waddle Dees around somewhere, preparing for the king's morning meal—more like a feast—though they were not present at the moment. The silence remained unbroken.

After locating a teapot, Meta Knight lit the stove and put the water on to boil; he normally had a cup of tea to break his fast, but since he was up so early he was used to making his own. The loose Tamaryokucha leaves were kept in a tightly-sealed jar in a cupboard, which the star warrior soon located and opened, placing some of its contents into a tea strainer. It was not too long before the water was almost to boiling, and he took it from the stove and poured it into a cup with the strainer.

In a few minutes he had his usual cup of green tea, and had left the kitchen once he had cleaned up after himself. As he again took up his customary perusal of the hallways, the old knight lifted his mask a little to sip at his hot tea and was content in the knowledge that, for the moment, all was well. Or as well as it could be, at least.

He had hardly gotten to halfway through his tea when, in passing the king's throne room, he heard the sound of voices from within. Later in the day this would not have been an unusual occurrence, but at this hour it was suspicious… Meta Knight moved closer, pressing a gloved hand against the wooden door to push it open just enough to slip through. The tea was left behind in the hallway as he moved silently; it could be attended to later, when more important things were finished. It was easy enough then to blend with the heavy shadows of the massive pillars, where he could wait and listen.

"So you're telling me that this monster will get rid of Kirby?" that was the voice of the king, undoubtedly. It was hard to miss his loud, demanding tone.

"Of course. Well, then, we'll prepare the special merchandise for you, King Dedede." The voice of Customer Service drifted down from the television screen. Dedede was seated as usual on his throne, Escargon beside him, though the snail seemed to hold some derision in his expression.

"There's just the small matter of your bill…"

"I'll pay it later!" Dedede slammed his fist down on the armrest of his throne. "Just send that demon beast over, and make it quick!"

"I'm afraid that we can't process that request quite so early yet," Customer Service replied, adjusting his orange sunglasses mildly on his face. "It will be sent right over as soon as it's ready. Have a good day, your Majesty!" The screen went blank as Customer Service left to go wherever it was that he went, possibly to some deep inner chamber of Holy Nightmare's hideout. As silent as the shadows that concealed him, Meta Knight slipped from the throne room; he had heard all that he needed to. There would be a new monster coming later in the day, so, despite his lack of sleep, he would have to remain vigilant. Kirby and this entire town would need him to keep a sharp eye out, and he could not fail them.

Upon emerging, he found that the cup of tea that he had so carefully placed outside of the door was gone; the Waddle Dees had probably taken it away to be washed. With a sigh, he decided that he had better things to worry about than what became of his tea, and instead resumed his usual route through the castle. He would have to prepare himself… make himself ready for whatever battle would be arriving through Nightmare's transporter. Even if he did not usually have to interfere overmuch in Kirby's fights, there was always that chance that, perhaps, he would. If this was that time, he would be just as ready as every other time to come to the rescue of the young star warrior who was his charge.

Once he had finished the normal morning routine, Meta Knight found a secluded portion of the parapets to begin training, sparring with an invisible partner. There was no one here yet that would have been a skilled enough opponent; Sword and Blade were good fighters, but they were not of the same caliber as the old knight. Fighting them would not have been laborious at all, and Kirby… well, he needed far more training to become a serious sparring partner. Perhaps there would be time later, he thought as he thrust at his imagined foe, to train the young puffball a bit more in swordsmanship. He could learn much on his own, but there were some things that he had to be shown, and the only teacher here was Meta Knight.

The star warrior sheathed Galaxia and lifted his mask to draw the back of his gloved hand across his burning face; it was turning into quite a warm day, and the heat underneath his metallic mask was stifling. Not for the first time he questioned his choice in materials for it.

"Sir Meta Knight!"

The mask was nearly slammed back over his face, concealing it entirely from view before it could be spied. He turned sharply, and before him stood the out-of-breath forms of his trusted subordinates, Sword and Blade, both of whom appeared to have run a marathon before reaching their lord. Surprise and anxiety at being caught with his face exposed soon faded into concern, and he approached the two with his cloak drawn close.

"Sword, Blade. What is going on?"

"The… the king…" Blade gasped, trying to regain his breath enough to speak. "He's… gotten another… monster. It's… uncontrollable…!"

Those words had scarcely left his mouth before there was a deafening crash from somewhere within the castle; the sound of screams accompanied it. Meta Knight threw the dark cloak back and drew his sword, and it crackled with electric energy. This was the monster that Dedede had ordered in the morning… he thought he would have more time than this. It did not matter now, however—there was, now, only the duty that he saw before him. He had to protect the people in this castle and, dislike him as he might, his king.

"Let's go!" The star warrior hastened away, his footfalls echoing in the stone corridors along with the heavy paces of his subordinates, moving steadily and unerringly towards the source of chaos and destruction.

.

.

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A/n—Kirby and the Kirby anime series are products of their respective owners, of course. I own nothing but the storyline, which is a product of a particularly stubborn plot bunny. Since I have only seen the Japanese version of the show, that's the one I'm going by for names and such. Thus, it translates as follows:

Customer Service – Salesguy in the American version

Escargon – Escargoon

Holy Nightmare Co. – NightMare Enterprises

Galaxy Soldier Army – Not mentioned in the US dub, but it was a group of soldiers who fought against Nightmare. Some were star warriors, but not all.

Fumu – Tiff

Bun – Tuff

If any of these names are confusing, just let me know and I'll switch them back to the American versions. I use them because they're familiar to me, but I only watch the Japanese subs of the show… I like them better than the dubs. (Meta Knight sounds like Zorro in the dub… '')


	2. Something Wicked This Way Comes

_The Interpretation of Dreams_

Chapter Two – Something Wicked This Way Comes

The sounds of destruction grew louder as Meta Knight and his subordinates approached, and the star warrior increased his pace to close the distance between himself and the demon beast. He was almost relieved when he came before the closed doors of the throne room, the deafening crashes emanating from within; it had not escaped from that room, and thus had not gone off to harm the innocents in the castle. From all of the racket it was causing, however, it must have done a number on the furniture.

Meta Knight placed his gloved hand against the door and gently opened it, quickly allowing himself and his followers admittance before shutting it again—he did not want the creature to escape these confines. At least it would stay within this place and would not cause more damage than it already had… the town could not handle such a destructive demon as this.

"Sir Meta Knight!"

Almost before his name was called, the old knight felt the approaching danger; he quickly darted away, not even needing to see what was coming at him. There was a splintering crash as a heavy ball of flame crashed into the doors-- miraculously they held, though the wood was badly damaged and blackened from the heat. Sword and Blade had, as well, managed to rush aside, and had taken shelter behind the large pillars in the room.

To his dismay, however, the star warrior found that Fumu and Bun were also here, along with Kirby; they had discovered the demon beast before he had been informed of it, and that was… unfortunate. He disliked the thought of those two children being in such danger, and should anything happen to them Meta Knight would never have forgave himself… the old knight's grip tightened on the hilt of Galaxia. He was a knight. It was his duty to protect.

There was a piercing and thunderous roar from the demon beast; the sound itself was so great as to shake dust from the high rafters. The beast's three heads only multiplied the sound, making the whole room tremble with its terrible ululation, not unlike the haunting howl of a wolf, just far louder. For a moment Meta Knight scrutinized the beast—it was huge, dwarfing even a horse, and in the shape of a black dog with treble heads and fangs like swords. Saliva dripped obscenely from its dark jowls, sizzling where it struck the floor like some sort of hot, slimy acid. Each step with massive, wickedly clawed paws was rimmed with sullenly glowing flames, making the stone floor crack and bubble. And before this fierce and slavering Cerberus stood Kirby, a small pink puffball staring with defiance at his foe.

The middle head growled and opened its maw wide, and breathed gouts of fire at Kirby, though the creampuff was able to dodge but not inhale the mass. But the blast had been ill aimed, at least in Meta Knight's view, because it went streaming towards the two children who stood staring in shock and horror at the approaching fireball. And, being clear on the other side of the throne room, the old knight could do nothing about it. It was only by the vigilance of his two subordinates that they remained unscathed, pulled out of the way just in the nick of time. The old star warrior breathed a sigh of relief.

His relief quickly dissipated when the growling beast swiped a paw at Kirby and knocked him flying; the little puffball struck the far wall and bounced, hitting the stone floor with a soft groan. Fumu, still held by Sword to prevent her from rushing into danger, cried out for him to stand, but the young star warrior was too dazed from the blow to comply. The monster padded closer, its paws leaving molten rock in their wake, and all three of its heads were gnashing their blade-like teeth in anticipation of their prey. The right head darted forward, jaws gaping, towards the prone puffball.

Its teeth never made contact, but it instead got a mouthful of Galaxia, and the creature howled as it was slit nearly from ear-to-ear, its tongue almost entirely severed and half of its keen fangs lying in puddles of blood on the floor. The other heads immediately turned towards the attacker, forgetting about Kirby for the moment; sharp amber eyes were locked on the old knight. For a moment Meta Knight was held fast by those strangely intelligent eyes that seemed almost to bore straight into his soul, as though trying to discover his innermost secrets through sight alone. Amber eyes—both the knight's and the monster's—were locked, and, for a little while, there was nothing else but that piercing gaze that made Time itself stand still.

Presently Meta Knight felt a strange chill steal over him, filling his form with a feeling of icy coldness, almost unbearable in its intensity. Still, however, he was held by those eyes, even though he thought that his limbs must have been covered in frost by then. The beast suddenly turned, breaking the fierce contact that had been maintained between them, and swung all three of its heads towards the now-standing Kirby.

Feeling returned in a painful rush now that those amber eyes were trained elsewhere, and Meta Knight's whole body smarted painfully. He almost felt as though he would drop Galaxia from the tingling pain that flooded his hands, though, through some great force of will, he kept his grip. Kirby had renewed his assault of the monster, and Meta Knight sheathed his sword and returned to the shadows, leaving him to his battle. After all, it was Kirby who had to defeat the demon beast, not himself; he would only interfere in dire situations, but the danger had now passed. And, anyway, he had to consider what had just occurred… if he could figure out exactly what had just happened. The fact that he had been transfixed by the beast's stare unnerved him greatly. It had been as though he had been… _bewitched_ for a few moments.

The Cerberus' treble heads reared back and opened their jaws wide, breathing out another roaring stream of flames; the little creampuff opened his own mouth and inhaled deeply, nearly drawing everything in the room into himself. Everyone within had to hold onto some very stable object to keep from being drawn into the puffball's mouth, but thankfully the gale-force winds died down once he had inhaled the fireball.

"It's Fire Kirby!"

The pink creampuff had donned his fiery hat, indeed, and Meta Knight watched with some satisfaction as his young charge returned fire in more than one sense of the word. Though the beast could spit flames himself, he was not immune to nor fed off of it, and soon found himself outclassed by a quicker, more agile opponent. The little star warrior used his smaller size to every advantage when fighting the larger foe; the Cerberus could hardly follow after Kirby as he bounced and bounded, scorching the already injured beast until it burst into flames itself. The monster's dying howl filled the throne room, once again shaking the last vestiges of dust from the rafters, and, with a sudden burst of red light, imploded in on itself.

Once the light had faded and eyesight returned, Meta Knight was already gone; he had drawn his cloak over his eyes when the brilliant flash had stunned everyone else, and was able to leave underneath the cover of blindness. He was pleased with Kirby's performance as a whole, exempting that one instance where he had to interfere on the puffball's behalf… but it was almost worrying that it had been a monster that he had not heard of before. Most of the demon beasts that Dedede called for were reasonably common and documented by the Galaxy Soldier Army, so Meta Knight was familiar with them. Of course, that was a long time ago—fifty thousand years or so—and it was not unreasonable to consider that Nightmare might have gone back to the drawing board and thought up a few new monsters to manufacture. The old star warrior wrapped his dark cloak around himself and nodded softly. His knowledge was still reliable in most cases, but might perhaps need some updating at times.

Meta Knight yawned then, one hand rising to cover the area of his mask that covered his mouth. For a moment he paused, considering the strangeness of this action; he was rarely tired, and, even though the day was not yet near completed, he felt… tired. Sleep was not something that often came easily to him, but it seemed as though it had decided to come along well now, when he really didn't want to rest. He ought to remain awake and watchful, waiting for Holy Nightmare's next attack or training or keeping an eye on that troublesome pink puffball. Sleeping was not something that was high on his list of priorities.

Despite this, the knight yawned again, and then drew his cloak a little closer to his body. Perhaps it would not hurt anything to have just a small rest. After all, in order to be alert he would have to rid himself of this tiredness; otherwise he might very well be useless if something important did happen. Soon his path through the thankfully calm and quiet halls brought him before his own room, and the star warrior opened his door and stepped inside, locking it behind him. His quarters were one of the few places that were entirely off-limits to anyone else; even Sword and Blade only entered when given express permission, respecting their lord's privacy. It had all of the furniture that a bedroom would possess; a bed, or at least a place for one, a small desk to work at, a bookshelf entirely filled with different novels, and a window, on whose ledge sat a large jar of candy. It was fairly stoic, he supposed, and had little by way of decorations, but in truth that lack only suited him better. There were some weapons on one wall near another shelf, the ones that Sword and Blade had wielded in their days as thieves, and they only remained as mementoes of the past.

The star warrior retrieved his futon from the small closet that he stored it in, and spread it out on the tatami floor in preparation for sleep. Since it was so early in the day, however, the light still streamed brightly through the open window, so the knight closed and barred the shutters to gain a little bit of darkness in the room. It was only now, when he was alone in his room and there was no chance of anyone interrupting, that the old knight ever took off his ever-present metal mask. It was simply inadvisable for him to go to bed with it still on, even though the feeling of air against the blue skin of his face was strange and almost uncomfortable. The mask was placed carefully on the desk, and the rest of his armor and clothing was removed and hung neatly on a peg so that they could be obtained quickly upon awakening. Finally, Galaxia was set next to his mask with equal care to await the hour that he would take it up again.

Meta Knight then laid down on his bed, drawing the covers up over his body, his head resting against the rarely used pillow. His own exhaustion surprised him; his amber eyes refused to stay open for more than a few moments at a time, and after a short while he found it useless to fight them. After all, he came here to sleep in the first place. Muscles that had been in a state of near-constant tension relaxed, and the knight's normally needle-sharp attention wavered and wandered—he began to drift off into sleep with unusual ease. Before finally succumbing to slumber, however, he felt the strangest icy chill sweep through his body… but then there was only calm darkness, and he thought no more.

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	3. The Undiscovered Country

_The Interpretation of Dreams_

Chapter Three – The Undiscovered Country

After the disaster with the three-headed demon beast, the throne room was in shambles; the monster's paws had all but ruined the floor, and the plumes of fire that it had breathed had done quite a number on the walls and decorations. A pillar or two had suffered almost irreparable damage, though thankfully most of them were not load-bearing, or else the castle would have had a few pressing structural issues to deal with. It was just one more thing to drive the king a little further into debt; undoubtedly he would call on Holy Nightmare to deal with the wreckage. This was almost a routine occurrence nowadays… Dedede downloads a monster, Kirby defeats it, and Nightmare makes profit both ways by instigating and remedying the resulting disaster.

Sword and Blade, after the cleanup had begun, went on patrol of the castle in the absence of their lord; Meta Knight would have normally been keeping an eye on everything at this point, but he had mysteriously disappeared… not that such a thing was unusual. Their lord did have a tendency of disappearing at times, but he would always turn up later and at an opportune moment—it was a bit strange, that uncanny ability of his to be in the right place at the right time. The two warriors assumed that the old star warrior was off on some errand of his own concern and did not need their aid in it. Until hearing otherwise, they would do their duties in the castle as they were supposed to, and would hope that nothing catastrophic occurred again that day. Quite frankly, the throne room had taken enough abuse for now… Though, admittedly, it had been hilarious when the king had discovered that the beast's paws had melted the floor around his transporter, sealing it up beneath until all of the warped rock could be removed. They could still hear his angry shouts far down the corridor, and, underneath their helmets, both smiled.

...

In the privacy of his bedroom, Meta Knight slept. His rest did not seem peaceful, however; the sheets were wrapped around his form tightly, gripped and twined between his fingers in tangled knots. The oft-unused pillow had been thrown by the agitated movements of his body and lay forlornly on the floor, misshapen as though beaten by restless hands. Sweat beaded on the star warrior's brow, slipping and sliding with even the slightest motion, leaving slick trails to glimmer in the half-light of the room. Occasionally a small noise would work its way out of his throat, sounding distressed and almost anguished.

His rest had not begun so terribly, but it was shaping to end that way; in the beginning, there was only a peaceful sort of darkness, a blank oblivion without thought or sensation to disturb it. Time had no meaning and no purpose, nor was there any reason to care for how quickly or slowly it might pass by, those pinpricks of eternity stretching further and further without beginning or end…

But this darkness did not last forever; its infinite reaches progressed to an end, marked by sound and the sensation of being touched on the shoulder.

"Meta Knight, wake up."

The voice was familiar, like a long-forgotten dream suddenly dredged from the depths of memory, hazy with the murky weight of minutes and days. The star warrior stirred, some minor expression of confusion crossing his slumbering features, and the voice only grew more insistent and the shaking more fervent.

"Meta Knight! Are you going to sleep all day?"

For a moment the knight searched those remnants of memories that had surfaced, interrogating them in his mind to unlock their secrets; who owned this voice that was all too familiar? It was neither Sword's nor Blade's, nor anyone who he could remember from the castle… who would be here to wake him up, to yell in his ear in that cheeky voice like some old friend…?

Amber eyes suddenly flew open and Meta Knight sat up as though he had been shocked, the sheets that covered his body thrown away sharply by his hands. They landed somewhere beyond his feet, slipping halfway over the edge of his cot until the pull of gravity dragged them ponderously down to the floor. His heart beat a furious and insistent beat in his ears, and, wide-eyed, he stared at the figure that had awoken him. The figure stared back with purple eyes blinking curiously at his strange reaction.

"J…Jecra?"

The other star warrior smiled, patting his friend heartily on the shoulder. "You look as though you've seen a ghost!" He laughed, but Meta Knight did not see much humor there; he _was _staring at a ghost, after all… the ghost of his friend that had died by his hand. He could remember every moment of that battle after Jecra's 'miraculous return', those warm, purple eyes dyed red from Nightmare's influence, monsters seething and surging in his long shadow. He remembered that final blow that had been fatal, that had been both a betrayal and a release…

"Pull yourself together, Meta Knight," he said, that smile never fading from his face. "We're going to head to Keid, so you've got to get ready."

Keid… Keid… he knew the planet, they were there for some time fighting against legions of Nightmare's forces… but what had happened there, exactly? Was that the place that Jecra had been captured at? Was that where he had to kill his friend, or was it at some other planet, some other time? The knight felt disoriented, his sense of time and linearity all but destroyed.

Was this all just a dream?

Jecra moved towards the entrance of the tent, pushing aside the flap to let himself through. "Don't take too long, or Sir Arthur'll be mad as hell. He wants to get through quick, since we're close to enemy territory."

Meta Knight nodded, but he was distant, lost in memories, trying to force them into greater clarity through sheer willpower. What had they done on Keid? Did they win it, or was he thinking of Naos? The Galaxy Soldier Army had gone to so many planets that it was nearly impossible to keep track of them. He dragged a hand across his brow, feeling the beads of perspiration slide down his face… it was exposed, but he strangely felt no anxiety. Perhaps it was because he was too shocked at seeing his long-dead friend to notice such things, or perhaps it was simply because… it was Jecra.

The star warrior rose from his cot and found his armor and clothing, donning them hastily; there were tears and stains in the material of his cloak, dents in his armor and mask from, in the heat of battle, turning a claw or blade from its killing stroke. Before finally placing the mask upon his countenance, however, Meta Knight turned it over and gazed into its slightly imperfect surface, seeing his face reflected in the metal. Was it just his imagination, or did he look young?

Then the metal was placed in its usual position, fastened and bound, shielding his blue face from view. Even though he had not been uncomfortable at its loss, he felt better with its presence; perhaps he could think things through logically now that he had recovered slightly from his shock.

The only rational conclusion for this whole scenario was that he was asleep and dreaming; after all, hadn't he gone to sleep before all of this, after the fight with that demon beast in the castle? He vaguely remembered such a battle, but all his memories of the castle and its inhabitants were strangely faded. If this was a dream as he suspected, then things would happen as they would, and he ought to just follow along with it and see what would occur. There was little else for him to do, after all… trying to change something in a dream was foolish… nothing would truly change. If this would be the planet that would become Jecra's gravesite, then so be it—deluding himself for a few hours into pretending that his friend lived was nothing but absurdity. Even so… for a dream, everything seemed so _real. _

With his nerves steadied, Meta Knight exited the tent and looked around, taking in the surroundings. Gazing at the lush and verdant landscape around the Galaxy Soldier Army's encampment, the star warrior scrutinized his memory again for the name of this planet. Perhaps it was Altais… but he did always confuse that planet with Altair… one of them was this picturesque place, he knew, and the other was a barren desert scorched by three suns… but he always forgot which was which. Their names were only different by one letter and, at the time, he had more important things on his mind. If only he had kept some sort of journal or notebook… but it was hard to keep such things while constantly traveling, and it was likely to be ruined by harsh weather and other, less savory occurrences.

Meta Knight wrapped his cloak around himself and walked through the camp, focusing not on his path or the lush forest all around but on the conversations near him. It was amazing, but he could catch bits and pieces and they all… fit. It wasn't the vague babble that would be expected of dreams, but real, coherent pieces that could plausibly fit into _real_ discussion. Could he, perhaps, be walking again through his memories, and _all of this _was stored somewhere in the recesses of his mind? Pausing, he turned to see a few warriors standing together in a group, speaking of something amongst themselves; he recognized one of them. After a moment the long-forgotten name burst into his mind like a storm cloud, raining down a hundred little details that he thought he would never recall. That warrior was named Japeth, and he came from Ankaa, and he carried letters from his little daughter in his pocket wherever he went… and over there, the girl with pale blue skin and wildly spiked hair, that was Maret… and the two warriors sparring outside the collection of tents, Koh and Arkes, were brothers from Saiph…he remembered them all.

It had been thousands of years since he had last seen these people, and now all of them were milling around him, laughing, talking, preparing to fight a battle that might be their last. And, in no great amount of time, they _would _engage their final enemy and fall… and that battlefield would be littered with their swollen corpses while the carrion-crows became fat from the spoils. Out of the corner of his eye, Meta Knight saw someone wave to him in greeting; he turned away and pulled his cloak closer, continuing to make his way through the camp.

Names rose unbidden in his mind as he walked, labeling all of the warriors that he saw as he went; here and there were people he knew, who he had fought with, brave fighters all… it was like walking amongst a conclave of ghosts-made-flesh. And, still, in his mind's eye, he saw the final outcome of that fatal battle, when so many of these soldiers were lying face-down in the dust. He had never forgotten that parched plain on the dead world; someone had to remember the sacrifice, even if it had been made in vain, and for years uncountable he had preserved in images in his mind.

Presently he came upon the edge of the forest, the trees thinning greatly into flat, grassy land. Here there were the starships, their crews bustling and hurrying to prepare them for journeys. Mechanics ran from machine to machine, carrying heavy loads of equipment and parts, yelling to each other in their own lingo. The gleaming steel of the vessels caught the morning sunlight and sent it beaming in all directions.

"Meta Knight."

The star warrior turned to see Jecra approaching, a smudge of oil marring his face, probably gained while helping to check the crafts; he had some knowledge of machinery, the knight remembered, and the mechanics were always short-staffed. Idly his friend wiped at the mark with the heel of his hand, but only succeeded in smearing it further across his cheek, though he seemed to care little about it.

"We're going to be leaving in about an hour," his friend said, looking over his shoulder to survey the vastness of the starship fleet. The rows of vessels stretched on and out of sight, though the view was blocked by their great metallic bodies. The air above shimmered with the heat that rose from engines and steel.

"I've heard that Keid will be an easy win," he continued, while behind him the ships were loaded with crates and supplies. "There's only one base there, and there hasn't been much activity going on for a while… as far as Nightmare's empire goes, Keid's a bit in bumfuck, I guess."

Jecra and his dysphemisms… Meta Knight smiled a little beneath his mask. This was just like him… all of it was just like him. The star warrior felt some strange pang in his chest, perhaps something like… regret? Whatever emotion it was, he pushed it out of the way; whenever this dream was concluded, he would have his duties to go and attend to, and he would not have the luxury of dwelling on nighttime visions.

"Hey, come on, let's get something to eat before we go."

The resulting hour seemed to take only moments, and soon Meta Knight was standing on the cold metal floor of some mighty vessel, gazing out one of the windows into the darkness of space. The stars were threads, moving by at such tremendous speeds that they looked like silvery streamers thrown against a black background. The ship was hurtling along at some high percentage of the speed of light, and, somewhere in the back of his mind, Meta Knight thought about how much time must be dilating… for him, this journey would only take a few hours. On Altais, though, they would be waiting for significantly longer to hear a response, to know whether or not the ships had made it to their destination. Three hours in this metallic machine would be fifteen to an observer, more or less…

"A penny for your thoughts?" Jecra had come to stand beside him, peering out the window as though to see what was so interesting.

"…You're broke," Meta Knight replied, drawing his cloak around him. It was a little cool on this level of the ship, and he recalled that almost every one he had been on had that one deck that seemed to have no damn heating… on his, he would ensure that such a thing was corrected.

And then he remembered having a conversation with Jecra, but it seemed to fly by without him going through the tedious process of speaking it; he remembered going down to the mess hall for a cup of bitter coffee, and wandering the ship, trying to figure out what their mission really was on this planet… but it had all happened in the space of a moment. Presently he was standing on the bridge with several other soldiers, out of the way but watching the cloud-covered Keid grow larger and larger on the main screen. His mask hid the brief confusion that appeared on his face as he glanced around, trying to regain some sense of linearity again; jumping around like this was very disorienting. Almost all of the three hours must have past already, because the ship was soon descending through the planet's thick atmosphere, cutting sharply through the dense cloud covering to see the darkened planet below. It was night now, but the vessel's equipment could easily navigate through darkness starker than this.

The spacecraft made their way to a selected drop-off point; the soldiers would be deposited in a certain location to set up an encampment with the supplies that were aboard the vessels. After that, the captain explained, the ships would leave and return to Altair (Meta Knight noted the name, but was almost certain he would forget again) so that they could provide more provisions. One of the craft would remain on the planet's surface, however, in the event of an emergency; it was moderately armed, though it could not survive in a dogfight against a real war vessel, and, once the cargo holds were entirely vacated, could transport a large number of soldiers if retreat was needed. Not all… but when they had joined the army, they all knew what might happen. And everyone was hoping that a retreat wouldn't be necessary, that this would be one of the few easy fights against Nightmare.

The drop-off point was located at the foothills of some mountain range, where the terrain, though rough, was stable and firm. The planet was perpetually covered with heavy rainclouds and there was an almost constant storm that soaked the earth below. The mountains would provide some protection from the rain and, since they were impassable except by anything that could fly (not that anything could really fly in this weather), it was easier to protect. The planet was basically one giant mud-puddle except for a few rock-solid areas.

The process of setting up camp was tedious and difficult, especially in the driving rain, but it seemed to Meta Knight to pass in the blink of an eye; one moment he had been standing next to Jecra on the bridge, the next he was standing amidst the encampment, water drumming an irregular rhythm against his mask. He drew his cloak close to his body, trying to protect it a little from the weather, but it was still cold.

Jecra pushed his wet blond hair out of his face, slicking it back with one hand. It still stuck up at odd and amusing angles, though the stray pieces were soon weighed down by rainwater. "No wonder Nightmare doesn't care about this place," he said, looking out over the camp and the land beyond. After the rocky foothills, little grew except for marshland plants; reeds, a few grasses, duckweed, the occasional water lily. "There's nothing worthwhile here, not even for us." He shook his head a little, and the spray from his hair pattered against Meta Knight's mask.

"Sorry," he said, but the knight only shook his head in dismissal.

"It's all right," the star warrior replied, turning his own gaze out over the murky landscape. "We are here for a reason. There is a divinity that shapes our ends, rough-hew them how we will."

He looked out for a moment longer, and supposed that somewhere there must have been a sunrise… but the heavy clouds made morning no different from twilight. Then he turned and began to walk towards the tent that had been designated their own; he rarely shared quarters with anyone other than Jecra. For a moment his friend seemed to ponder his words, following after slowly and with his head tilted up towards the darkling sky. The storm didn't seem quite so heavy now as it had before… perhaps it was going to cease for a while, and they could all get a bit of a reprieve.

Neither of the two star warriors actually made it to their tent, however; there was the sudden sound of shouting and swearing, and activity in the camp increased greatly in only a few moments. There were soldiers running through, heedless of the treacherous wet stone that caused many to slip and fall. Amidst the confusion Meta Knight could clearly see a few soldiers bearing another, hauling that one battered figure towards a medic's tent. It was one of the scouting parties that had been deployed… and the injured soldier, his hands grasping frantically and desperately at the mangled stumps that once were legs, was Koh. Just hours ago he had been sparring with his brother, and now that brother of his was carrying him like a pall bearer would a funeral casket—solemnly, trying to shield his kin from the rain.

One of the soldiers approached the pair of star warriors, appearing as though he had just run a marathon… Meta Knight had a sudden feeling of déjà vu, though he couldn't quite remember what was so familiar, but only knew that there was _something _about this soldier that he should be connecting to a previous event. It was unimportant, however, and the feeling was pushed aside to be scrutinized later.

"Sir Meta Knight, Sir Jecra," the warrior said, pushing dripping hair out of his eyes, "there is a band of… demon beasts approaching through… the marshes." He paused for a brief moment to regain more of his breath. "Sir Falspar has requested… that the two of you… help lead the defense…"

Of course, they could not refuse an order from a superior, nor would either of the star warriors have thought to. Meta Knight immediately started off in the direction that the messenger indicated, and behind him he heard the wet splatter of Jecra's footsteps in the puddles. At the edge of the marsh, a group of warriors and soldiers had been gathered for the defense of the encampment, awaiting orders and ready to obey them to the letter.

Time was rapidly escaping them, and upon meeting with the platoon Meta Knight and Jecra were all but interrogating the remaining scouts for information. They gleaned as much as they could from the soldiers' memories, considering the best courses of action to take and how to use their limited knowledge of the marshes. They had a crude map of the nearby area drawn on a piece of cartographer's paper, though keeping it dry during their hasty discussions was more than difficult; the ink kept running from the water and it was quickly becoming hardly more than a blurred smudge of ink on a disintegrating page.

The leader of one of the scouting groups, a soldier named Harad, peered at the rapidly melting map, and pointed to an area a short distance into the marshlands that had been marked in some fashion before the ink ran. "Here," he said, the pad of his finger becoming darkly smudged, "there are sinkholes and quicksand all over the place. The water's brackish, too, and you can't see the bottom… you'd never know until it's too late."

One of Jecra's eyebrows rose up a little; he was coming, undoubtedly, to the same conclusion as Meta Knight. If Nightmare was going to fight them in the swamps and marshes, then they'd damn well use those swamps and marshes against them. If they played it out right, they might hardly even have to engage the enemy at all… they could let the sinkholes and quicksand take care of the monsters. They did not have much time to create a particularly elaborate plan, but with the few minutes that they had, the soldiers were able to come up with one that, with a little luck, would work.

And, with the information coming in from the scouts about the monsters' approach, the hastily-prepared plan was set into motion. The small group was split into three teams, each sent out into specific places within the marshland. One, which contained some of the scouts who knew the swampland and the sinkholes best, were in a group positioned in that treacherous area, where they intended to herd the monsters at the end. Another, led by Meta Knight, was to go forward and directly engage the enemy, then, after only a few minutes of combat, fall back. The final group was hidden in the reeds and sparse vegetation, crouched low in the brackish water, waiting for the retreat; once Meta Knight's faction came into sight, followed by the monsters, they would burst out of the reeds and marshland flora to drive the monsters into the sinkholes and quicksand. With any luck it would play out so nicely and the only real fighting that they would have to do was on the initial engagement and then to pick off any survivors.

Each team rushed into their positions, hurrying through the treacherous swampland paths as though their lives depended on it—they did. Not only their lives, but the lives of their comrades and everyone left in the encampment. Should Holy Nightmare get past them and into the camp, there were many there who would be defenseless. As he waded through the brackish water, Meta Knight remembered the injured Koh and his grim brother, Arkes… if the demon-beasts reached the camp, they would tear the medic tents to pieces. Without legs, Koh wouldn't have the smallest chance of getting out alive, and his brother would never allow him to be slaughtered without a fight… so that would be two good soldiers gone. Pushing aside some troublesome reeds, the star warrior led his group to engage the oncoming enemy; he could even hear them now as they forced their way through the vegetation. There was something large traveling amongst them.

The soldiers remained low, trying to stay as hidden as possible, to maintain some sort of element of surprise. They were, at least, moving more cautiously than their foes, which trampled through the marshland as though it was no more dangerous than a meadow. A little way ahead the vegetation thinned, and the monsters stopped to regain their bearings, communicating and bickering amongst themselves as to which way to head. Meta Knight signaled for his party to stop and managed to slip close enough to get a good view of the enemy pack.

There was a group of eight monsters that the star warrior could see, less in numbers than their parties combined… but demon beasts did not necessarily have to have greater numbers to have the upper hand. Three of them appeared to be light-weight attackers, armed but sparsely armored and of average size. There was something strange about them, though… their weapons were not made of steel or iron, but were of some dark, glasslike material… obsidian or flint, by the star warrior's guess. Granted, that particular material could be sharpened to a far keener edge than steel, but a swordsman didn't need to have a blade that could perform surgery. A warrior wasn't concerned with the neatness of the wounds he inflicted… and against any good armor, the jet-black mineral would be ground to powder before it could do much damage. And their only protection was from what appeared to be leather armor, something that, quite frankly, was not very good against steel weaponry, and likely smelled horrible because of the constant damp.

Another three monsters that Meta Knight could see were wolf-like in appearance, though larger than the normal animal and possessing a far more intelligent air. They did not appear to be entirely pleased with all of the water and were continually pacing, their large paws splashing in the marsh. Their long, triangular ears twitched in irritation, flickering at even the slightest sound, and their dark noses, dripping from the rain, were continually sniffing the air and likely only picking up the overwhelming scent of salt and brine and marsh gas. Once or twice they would snap at each other with sharp teeth when the other demon beast would step too close.

One of the beasts appeared capable of flight, but was perched upon one of the swordsman's shoulder, its green-scaled wings tucked tightly against its body. The rain prevented it from wanting to fly much, and that was a great boon for the star warrior; its serrated beak appeared razor-sharp and its talons had already punctured the tough leather armor of the shoulder it was standing upon. The owner of that appendage flinched in pain and tried to shrug the monster away, but it only gripped tighter.

The last monster was… something. It was difficult to tell in the gloom and shadows, but there was something there behind the others. It appeared to be sinuous and close to the ground, occasionally raising its serpentine head to observe the bickering of its fellows. Along its neck was something like a flap or fan, perhaps, which would flare out a little when one of the wolf-beasts came too close with their gnashing jaws. Meta Knight's eyes narrowed slightly—that obscured beast was troublesome, though he could not remember any reasons for thinking so. He just _knew _that it would be.

With a quick motion of his hand, the soldiers in his command advanced and slipped quietly into their places, remaining hidden by the marsh-grasses and weeds. The wolf-beasts ceased their agitated pacing, ears forward and orange eyes glaring into the dense vegetation. Meta Knight could hear the rumble of a low growl in their throats; they knew something was here, but they didn't know what or where. There was too much noise from the patter of raindrops to hear well enough, and the continual smell of rotting flora and salt made it impossible to smell the soldiers. The demon swordsmen ceased their argument, drawing their obsidian weaponry in preparation for a fight. For a moment everything was still—even the rain seemed to freeze in its path to the earth.

With a word Meta Knight broke the silence.

The soldiers charged forward with him, swords and lances drawn, ready, striking out towards their foes. There was confusion amongst the monsters at the sudden attack and they scrambled to create some sort of defense, obsidian swords hastily flung up to guard against steel and wicked claws clattering against metal armor. The birdlike beast had managed to drag itself into the air, fluttering above despite the rain that battered its frame. But these demon beasts were made for battle and soon had their bearings; the claws of the wolves soon scoured deep lines in armor and rent whatever unprotected flesh they could reach. The swordsmen were not unskilled with their unusual weapons, their blades flashing in the dim light.

There was a screech as the bird-demon dove, talons outstretched, diving straight for Meta Knight. Though his mask would provide some protection, a particularly accurate strike could still blind him; he waited, sword drawn, for the demon-beast to be within range… then he leapt, swinging his sword and feeling it slice through delicate membrane and hollow bones, slicing a wing clear off of the monster's body. It screamed in pain and landed with a loud splash and a sickening thud in the brackish water and did not surface.

"Fall back!"

At his command, the soldiers retreated from the fight back into the vegetation, heading as a group back towards the other parties. Everything was going according to plan, and Meta Knight was thankful for small mercies; it would have been so easy for things to go terribly wrong. Even though there were several of their number who had been injured, none of the wounds were grievous… they were able to rush through the marsh with all speed, slowing neither for hell or high water. Behind, the wolf-beasts pursued them recklessly, unwilling to give up their prey now that it was on the run, and with them came the swordsmen and the strange, cautious serpentine beast.

The star warrior and his soldiers were rapidly approaching the place where Jecra and his group waited; it was only a short distance more, though the flora and the water made it difficult to travel the perhaps twenty-five yards that remained. At the designated spot, or at least approximately that area, the group stopped and turned to face the enemies that came bounding through the marsh. One of the wolf-beasts howled and sprang, its claws aimed straight for Meta Knight.

Then there was a blur of metal and blond hair intercepting the beast on its path. Jecra, his sword drawn and stained with monster's blood, landed with a splash in the marsh next to his friend while the wolf-beast stopped dead in the air before falling heavily into the water. It laid still, the water blooming red around its gaping throat; its neck had been sliced cleanly open.

"You just keep getting into trouble when I'm not around," Jecra said, undoubtedly grinning behind his mask. The sound of a stone blade being drawn, however, pulled him away from his mild teasing and back into the battle that was supposed to be going on. "Here we go!" he cried and, his sword whistling through the air, initiated combat.

As the monsters rushed into the renewed skirmish, more soldiers burst from their hiding places, flanking the beasts and driving them towards the waiting sinkholes and quicksand. It was not as easy as they had hoped, however, to force a group of monsters to go somewhere that they did not want to; the fight went on for longer than either star warrior had anticipated and very little ground had been covered in the process.

Something slid through the water around their ankles, gliding through it with sinuous ease. Meta Knight was too busy with one of the swordsman to notice the movement of the water underneath him, and it seemed as though everyone else had a similar problem to deal with. There was a sudden burst of brackish spray as the serpentine demon-beast rose from the marsh, rearing up many feet above their heads. Quickly Meta Knight dispatched his foe and turned towards the greater threat; his eyes followed the winding body and found that it stretched all around them, encircling them with a thick, scaly coil.

The thin, membranous fan opened around the serpent's neck, revealing an array of brilliant oranges and reds and a layer of metallic spikes. Meta Knight tensed, preparing for some sort of lunge or attack by the monstrous reptile, but for the moment it seemed to be sensing its surroundings, a vivid red tongue flickering in and out of its mouth, tasting the air.

The serpentine beast suddenly tensed its long, lithe body, the brightly colored scales rippling like waves on still water as the muscles underneath contracted. There was a slight quiver of that thin fan and wickedly glimmering spikes upon it before, like bullets from a gun, two or three of the spines shot forward and plunged into the water in the spot that Meta Knight had been occupying just moments before. The beast followed him with snake-like reflexes, its body swaying lightly as it focused entirely on the star warrior, acid-green eyes unblinking. Another small volley of spikes shot from it and were narrowly avoided; one of them tore yet another hole in the warrior's dark cape, which, he thought in irritation, would have to be repaired later.

"Just inhale the damned things already, would you?!"

The voice was Jecra's, and Meta Knight hesitated—something was conflicting with what his friend had just yelled for him to do. He again got the feeling that he had forgotten something very large and important, but forced it out of his mind. The other soldiers were occupied with their own enemies, and he had to focus on dispatching this one. He could not get caught up in whatever he was forgetting… nothing was more important at the moment than not getting impaled. Meta Knight could easily foresee how having spikes imbedded in him would just ruin his day.

One hand raised the metal mask as the snake-beast tensed its body, the water trembling as its muscles quivered; he exhaled and then took a sharp breath inwards as the spikes were shot, capturing them in the vortex of his inhalation. They were swiftly drawn into him and he felt the strange itching sensation that preceded a transformation; it was uncomfortable and felt a little like what he imagined a reptile experienced when shedding. It was kind of like wearing the wrong skin.

Before the transformation could take place, however, the serpent-beast's fan began to change in color, shifting from oranges and reds to blues and greens; Meta Knight felt an unusual tugging sensation, like invisible hands were pulling at the spikes that he had swallowed. A shock ran throughout his entire body as he realized that there _was _something pulling at the spines, and the sensation was becoming stronger and stronger as the colors darkened on the monster's fan. The pull became so great that he could feel the spines start to stretch his body in their attempt to return to their source. The three spikes that had already been shot into the water swiftly returned to the monster, flying back as though time had been rewound.

Pain blossomed in the knight's face as the magnetic attraction grew; his whole body, armor and sword and all, were starting to be dragged towards the snake-like beast. He resisted despite the increasing pain, throwing all of his weight backwards to avoid being thrown into the demon-beast. His sword flew from his hand and clattered against the monster's scales, but did no damage to it.

There was a sudden burst of searing agony and a vivid spray of blood as the spikes tore free, returning unerringly to their spots on the blue-green fan. Meta Knight collapsed into the water, choking on the blood that poured from the punctures on his face. The salt from the brackish water made every cut blaze as though someone had poured liquid fire into the wounds and he could think of nothing but the absolute pain. In some vain attempt at staunching the flow, the star warrior pressed his white gloves against his injuries, but it only served to stain them crimson. And, while agony blinded him and he was left weaponless, the serpentine beast loomed over him like a colossus. He would have cried out for one of his comrades to aid him, but he could make no other sound but shuddering, painful cries, and his voice failed him.

"Meta Knight!"

Darkness crept into the edges of his vision as his blood tainted the water around him, transforming it into a dark, muddy red. Looking upward, he could see into the open mouth of the serpent as it began to strike, the massive, hollow fangs dripping some form of potent venom. And from seemingly nowhere a blond figure darted into his decreasing vision, his stained sword thrusting into the demon beast's gaping maw.

"Sir Meta Knight!"

The voice was not Jecra's.

"Sir Meta Knight!"

Darkness enveloped him, dragging him down into their heavy, murky depths.

"Sir Meta Knight, are you all right?"

The old star warrior opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling of his room in King Dedede's castle, his face dripping sweat and the sheets twisted into impossible knots around him. Sitting up, he glanced around and tried to regain his bearings, breathing deeply in some attempt to slow his pounding heartbeats. Keid… Jecra… the serpent demon-beast…

"Sir Meta Knight…?"

The voice was Blade's, and the old star warrior sighed as he rose from his disheveled bed. "I'm all right," he replied, his voice level and calm, even though he felt… tired. Perhaps it wasn't surprising, considering what his night had been filled with.

"We've finished our rounds in the castle, my lord," Blade went on, and in his tone the knight detected some concern. "It's nearly dawn."

"Thank you," he said, moving towards his desk where Galaxia and his metallic mask lay waiting. The knight picked up his mask, turning it over so that the smooth concave surface was towards him. Within that reflective surface he saw his face, and upon that face was the faint tracery of old, thick scar tissue.

It had all been a dream… but, long ago, it had been real as well.

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A/n- So that's the third chapter… it took a while to get up, but I do like the details. Though I am a bit upset that I made some spelling errors… darn you, spell-check, you lie to me. Thanks for the reviews, Nightblood, Crazy Foxie, Casiana1, kitsunefire, loojopop, pride1289, and twilitprincess! I really appreciate them, and I hope that you guys like this chapter as well.


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